Santa's Snack

I should have written this a little sooner, perhaps in time for Christmas, but with two children, two dogs, two cats, two rabbits, a move into a new house, and of course an ADHD husband, I was a tad busy! I did however think that this was worth a mention…

            As I was driving the kids in the car the other day on the way home from daycare, I asked Benji what kind of food we should leave out for Santa this year. I saw his reflection in my rearview mirror and he had a look of confusion. I proceeded to explain to him that Santa Claus gets very hungry because he carries lots of presents to lots of kids all night long and he works very hard to make sure that he can get to as many children as possible. To that statement Ben responded with, “He can just eat at home.” I laughed a little, and then explained to Ben that Santa would probably eat dinner at his house in the North Pole, but he would probably like a snack when he got to our house. All the time I was planning on leading up to encouraging Benji to leave a snack that Adam and I could enjoy that evening after dinner, my strategy was failing miserably. After explaining this process to Ben, I again asked him what he thought Santa would like to snack on that evening. He thought for a while and gave the generic answer, “Cookies.” I assured that him that cookies were a great idea, but EVERYONE leaves cookies, Santa likes cheese and crackers, maybe a little summer sausage, and maybe even a little wine…again Ben thought for a few seconds. “We can leave Santa chicken, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and cookies.” So, there it was…that was the plan, it wasn’t necessarily what “Santa” wanted, but that was what Ben thought he needed. I headed to the store the next day, picked up a rotisserie chicken in preparation for the Big Guy, and headed home with a car load of other groceries to get us through the holidays. The chicken didn’t last long, it was consumed that night for dinner as I didn’t really feel like cooking, there was a little left over, but we forgot to leave that out for Santa…we forgot to leave anything out for Santa and his reindeer. I have high hopes that next year’s Christmas will be planned a little better…perhaps I can carve out time to prepare a delightful snack for Santa, some grain for his reindeer, remember to leave the Santa Key on the door so he can actually get into our house. The only thing that I accomplished this year was hand making all four of our own stockings and getting the gifts wrapped in time, although that probably wouldn’t have been completed without the assistance of my niece!  

Even though we forgot the chicken, Santa still came through.
Christmas morning 2012.

Going home and Going to bed...

            A recent move to an old family home has recently taken place, and with that a disruption to the organized chaos that I call my life is happening. The other morning, I woke up to get ready for work, and for Adam to inquire where his tennis shoes were. He was in desperate need of tennis shoes because he had been asked to dress “business casual” for work that day. I’m not sure where the tennis shoes fit into business casual, but I wasn’t going to argue about it so early in the morning. I searched for the shoes, having no idea where they had walked off too, but Adam was positive that I was the one that had packed his shoes so I HAD to know where they were. Now that I’m living in my deceased grandparent’s home, I feel the need to steal my grandfather’s catch phrase and describe what happened between Adam and I a “heated discussion.” Maybe I packed his shoes, I really had no idea at that time, and definitely didn’t know where they ended up. He’s since found the shoes, and I’m POSITIVE that I wouldn’t have placed them in the spot that he found them! Anyway, that was my morning! I dropped the kids off at daycare, headed to a long day of listening to a prosecuting attorney lecture on how to testify in court (training for a new job is not always so exhilarating). About half way through the day, and thinking about testifying I court, it popped into my head that my car’s tags would expire in exactly two days. From my other stories that I’ve posted, I’m sure you can imagine that I was completely unable to focus on what I should have been learning for work, all I could think about was getting new registration for my car! Luckily, I calmed my nerves somewhat by finding a Secretary of State office less than a mile from where I was, and I would be out by 4, therefore able to make it to SOS before it closed. The day was saved, or so I thought. I promptly left work that day in a rush and without saying goodbye to anyone, sped to the SOS office, walked in and without having to stand in line I walked up to the counter and was told that I would need to show my current registration and proof of insurance. I informed the woman that I would run to my car to get those and be right back. As I got to my car I searched, and searched, AND SEARCHED MORE…and then drove off too embarrassed to admit that I’d been driving for 6 months without proof of insurance or registration in my car. Of course I had no idea where they were, Adam had no idea where they were, and the expiration date was soon approaching. I drove home cautiously to avoid catching the eye of any law enforcement. About 40 minutes later I arrived back home in time to pick up a prescription that I needed, the pharmacy informed me that they had tried to call however couldn’t reach me…my prescription was on back-order…whatever that means! Okay, trying to stay calm… I head to our old house to pack up a few more loose items that we still needed to clean out and then to get the kids. I noticed that my car was low on gas, but I was positive I could make it to get the kids and then head directly to the gas station before driving to our new house. After arriving at daycare, I walked inside, gathered the kids and their belongings, walked outside to realize that my car was no longer running. You guessed it…OUT OF GAS. No worries, I would just call a friend or family, after all we knew everyone in the area. Well, the “everyone” that we knew must have all been together in an undisclosed location because nobody wanted to answer their phones or come help! Awesome! After 20 minutes of chatting and small talk with the daycare provider, the neighbor to the daycare center was able to help, I gave him $5 and he poured enough gas into my tank to get me safely to the gas station. After this day, I did not feel like cooking…so after getting gas we headed to McDonalds. I walked in carrying Presley who had pastel striped pants because she had “blown out” of her other diapers and pants and a red Chrismas shirt, and one sock. Let me tell you, I really looked like mother of the year tonight. Benji was more than excited but didn’t feel like eating much because there was a toy for him in his happy meal. Ahhh….going home and going to bed…what a day.

Pictures to come...

I don't have time for Goodwill

            Against my better judgment the other evening, I decided to perform one of the most dreaded wifely duties that all women find disgusting, smelly, messy, and sometimes gooey…taking out the trash. Oftentimes, my wonderful husband does this for me on his way out the door in the mornings or after dinnertime cleanup, but I felt an incredible urge to handle it on this particular evening. After the kids were both in bed, the kitchen was clean, and dishes placed strategically in the dishwasher, I cinched up the trash bag and headed out the door. As I approached the trash cans, I noticed that one was full which was unusual because the trash had just been picked up two days prior. Standing in the rain, looking at the full trash can, my curiosity got the best of me. I opened the top bag up, slowly peeked in and found….BEN’S OLD BABY CLOTHES AND SHOES! At this point I was more than pissed off as I yanked the bag out of the trash can and set it by my feet. I knew I had to check into the other bag that had been “thrown out.” A little quicker this time than last, I tore open the big yellow bag only to find MY CLOTHES and the warmest, fluffiest, Victoria’s Secret bathrobe that I’d been missing forever. I yanked up both bags and plopped them in the garage that my dearest Adam has been working so hard to clean before our big move to the country here in a few weeks. I marched back into the house and inquired as to why a bag of baby clothes and a bag of my clothing had been thrown away, to this question the response was:

Adam: “I don’t have time for Goodwill.”

Me: “So you just threw everything in the trash?”

Adam: “I figured Ben is 3 now and the baby that we have has enough clothes.”

Me: “Umm..what about my stuff?”

Adam: “Sorry.”

            And I let it go with the sorry, and by “let it go” I mean that I stopped asking questions, texted my friend about the situation, and acted snotty all night. A little later on, I tried to explain the unwritten rule of baby clothing…you pass it on to friends and relatives, or you take it to a mom-to-mom sale and make some cash. Goodwill has never received any of my baby clothes and I doubt they ever will, I may go to hell for that statement, forgive me.  Adam was blissfully unaware of my attachment and concern about the baby clothes, and I know that he was thinking that I hadn’t missed the bag of my clothes since the last move that we made so I could do without them now, he’s probably right about my clothes…but don’t mess with my baby’s clothes. I don’t care that Benji is 3 and will obviously NEVER fit into infant clothing again, I’m not ready to part with all of those memories yet, unless of course I can make some money! As I emptied the bag of baby clothes tonight, I was reminded of my lil man as a baby and how cute he was in those clothes, and how little he once was. I reminisced. I wondered if I would ever be blessed enough to have another little boy to wear those same clothes and I thought back to the days of when Benji was my only child and how I had time to cook him breakfast every morning before daycare. I decided that I don’t really NEED these clothes, and I don’t really have the space for them, but I felt as if I was giving away so many memories. Again, against my better judgment, I packed many of the clothes into a tote with all intentions of selling it to a secondhand store…someday.